episode 7
1216 Words
The feeling didn’t fade.
That was the first thing Aru noticed.
He had thought—maybe it was just a moment. Something small. Something that would pass like all the other strange thoughts he’d had before.
But it didn’t.
It stayed.
It followed him from the moment he woke up to the moment he closed his eyes again.
And now, it wasn’t just a quiet thought anymore.
It was something he could feel.
That morning, Aru woke up earlier than usual.
Not because he had to.
But because his mind refused to stay asleep.
He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts already moving before his body did.
“…Why am I thinking about him this much?”
No answer.
Just the same quiet feeling in his chest.
Not heavy.
Not painful.
Just… there.
He sat up slowly, brushing his hair back, and walked toward the mirror.
For a moment, he just stood there.
Looking.
Not judging.
Not questioning.
Just observing.
The reflection was the same as always—soft features, long hair neatly falling over his shoulders, the uniform ready on the chair behind him.
Everything matched the life he had always lived.
Everything made sense.
So why—
“…Why does something feel different now?”
He touched his own reflection lightly, then pulled his hand back.
He didn’t understand it.
And maybe that’s what made it stronger.
“Aru, hurry up,” his mother’s voice came again.
“I’m coming,” he replied.
Her tone was the same as always. Strict, controlled, leaving no room for delay.
Aru quickly changed, putting on the clothes laid out for him.
Everything felt routine.
Familiar.
Safe.
But inside—
Nothing felt still anymore.
At breakfast, his parents sat across from him.
“You’ve been quiet,” his father said suddenly.
Aru looked up, slightly surprised.
“…Have I?”
His mother glanced at him. “Don’t let unnecessary thoughts distract you.”
“…I’m not,” Aru replied quickly.
But even as he said it—
He knew it wasn’t true.
The moment he stepped into school, his eyes moved automatically.
Searching.
Scanning.
Looking for only one person.
But he wasn’t there.
Not in the courtyard.
Not near the hallway.
Not by the stairs.
Aru’s steps slowed.
“…Where is he?”
“Aru!”
His friends ran toward him, pulling him back into their usual circle.
“You look like you lost something,” one of them said.
“…No, I didn’t,” he replied, forcing a small smile.
“Then why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting.”
Aru paused.
“…I’m not.”
They exchanged looks, but didn’t push further.
They trusted him.
So they let it go.
But Aru couldn’t.
All through the morning, something felt wrong.
Not in a dramatic way.
Just… incomplete.
Like a sentence missing its last word.
Every time he glanced toward the window—
Nothing.
Every time the door opened—
Not him.
Even during class, he couldn’t focus.
His pen hovered above his notebook, unmoving.
“…Why does this matter so much?”
He didn’t have an answer.
And that made it worse.
When lunch came, his friends immediately sat around him.
“You’re not going anywhere today,” one of them said, half-teasing.
Aru didn’t argue.
“…Okay.”
He stayed.
He talked.
He laughed.
He tried.
But the feeling didn’t go away.
It grew.
Quietly.
Steadily.
Until it became impossible to ignore.
“…You can go,” one of his friends said softly.
Aru looked up. “…What?”
“You’re not here,” she smiled.
“I am.”
“No,” she shook her head gently. “You’re somewhere else.”
Aru didn’t respond.
Because she was right.
“…Go,” she added. “We’ll be here.”
“…Thank you,” he said quietly.
This time, he didn’t walk.
He hurried.
Not running—but faster than usual.
Checking the places he knew.
The tree.
The hallway.
The stairs.
Nothing.
His chest tightened slightly.
“…Where are you?”
And then—
“Aru.”
He stopped.
Turned.
Rei was standing behind him.
Calm as always.
Like nothing had changed.
“…Where were you?” Aru asked before he could stop himself.
Rei blinked slightly. “…Library.”
“You weren’t in class.”
“I was. Just late.”
Aru stared at him for a moment.
Then looked away.
“…Oh.”
“…You were looking for me,” Rei said quietly.
It wasn’t a question.
Aru hesitated.
“…No.”
A small pause.
“…Okay,” Rei replied.
But something in his tone said he didn’t believe that.
They walked to their usual spot.
Sat down.
And for a moment—
Neither of them spoke.
“…It felt weird,” Aru said finally.
Rei looked at him. “…What did?”
“…Not seeing you.”
The words came out softer than he expected.
More honest than he planned.
Rei didn’t respond immediately.
He just watched him.
“…Same,” he said after a moment.
Aru’s heart skipped.
Not fast.
Not loud.
Just… enough.
“…Really?”
“Yeah.”
Silence again.
But this time—
It wasn’t empty.
It was full of something neither of them understood.
“You’re honest,” Rei said suddenly.
“…Am I?”
“More than you think.”
Aru smiled faintly. “…Only with you.”
That made Rei pause.
Just for a second.
But Aru noticed.
“…Why?” Rei asked.
Aru looked down at his hands.
“…I don’t know.”
That answer again.
But now—
It felt heavier.
More real.
The wind moved around them, softer than before.
Time passed.
But neither of them noticed.
After school, they walked together again.
Closer than yesterday.
Closer than before.
Not touching.
But almost.
“You didn’t stay with your friends again,” Rei said.
“They told me to go,” Aru replied.
“They always do.”
“…Yeah.”
Aru paused, then added quietly—
“…But even if they didn’t, I think I still would.”
Rei glanced at him.
“…Why?”
Aru smiled softly.
“…Because I want to.”
For a moment, Rei didn’t look away.
“…You’re strange,” he said.
Aru laughed. “You too.”
They reached the crossing.
Stopped.
Like always.
“…Tomorrow?” Aru asked.
“Yeah.”
But this time—
It felt different.
Not like a routine.
Not like a habit.
Like something they were both choosing.
That night, Aru lay in bed, staring at the ceiling again.
But this time—
His thoughts were clearer.
Not quieter.
Just… clearer.
“…I was looking for him.”
He said it out loud.
And for the first time—
He didn’t deny it.
Across the city, Rei sat by his window again.
“…I noticed.”
He leaned back slightly, closing his eyes.
“…I was waiting too.”
Two lives.
Still unchanged.
Still following the same rules.
But now—
There was something between them.
Something growing.
Something real.
Not love.
Not yet.
But something just as important.
Something that made everything else feel a little less important.
And neither of them knew—
That this was only the beginning.
- Writer
